


On The Monitor

by Bibliotecaria_D



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2011-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:45:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibliotecaria_D/pseuds/Bibliotecaria_D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Making monitor duty less boring."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Monitor

**Title:** On the Monitor  
 **Warning:** Well, _somebody_ is going to get shot in the head.  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Continuity:** IDW  
 **Characters:** Blurr, Sideswipe  
 **Disclaimer:** The theatre doesn’t own the script or actors, nor does it make a profit from the play.  
 **Motivation (Prompt):** _IDW Blurr/Sideswipe - Making monitor duty less boring._

[* * * * *]

"You know," Sideswipe drawled, not because he normally spoke that way but because words were coming a bit slow to him with all his concentration elsewhere, "I don't think this is what we're supposed to be doing."

"Youknow," Blurr did _not_ drawl, "itwasn'tinthemissionbriefing, onewayortheother."

Okay, point one for the racer. That was the kind of twisty thinking Sideswipe could appreciate. Was this allowed? Think of it sideways: nobody had outright banned it, right?

Sideswipe grinned, most of his attention still on the sniper rifle he was ever-so-carefully levering into place. Ironhide had told him to find a scope for it before trying to use it, but nobody had time to salvage anything. There was no time for anything that wasn't fighting or running, frankly. So improvisation had become the name of the game, and the game was a race for survival, and he just happened to be paired with Cybertron's most outstanding racer.

Who had looped back, set up a tiny camera hidden in a crevasse of an old wreck of a building, and sped back to their position in the time it would have taken Sideswipe to roll half the initial distance. He was, as Blurr continually informed him, slow in comparison. Which is why their pursuers were catching up to their squad. Which is why that little camera was going to buy them some time.

Blurr's optics were locked on the fuzzy image sputtering on the half-functioning monitor jury-rigged to the Pit and back. "Downdowndownstop."

Sideswipe froze on command, gears straining for the least instruction, because he didn't have a scope. His optics couldn't see that far. There was no target lock. There was only Blurr's word on the holes he'd drilled, a sniper rifle with no scope, and a camera far away, waiting for a head to walk into view. One shot in a million, aimed straight into the camera lens through whoever got in the way.

Blurr sat, still as death, watching. Sideswipe held the rifle, patient as he never was, waiting. Together, they poised at the starting gate of their own interpretation of monitor duty.


End file.
